A high school experience
by Nothisgrill
Summary: Our favourite fictional characters now go to a high school called Loubourg outside of Bern, Switzerland. How will it effect their lives? A collection of shortstories. Modern AU/slightly OOC. Different pows.
1. A win-win situation (Darcy)

Wilhelm Darcy sat with his phone, absentmindingly scrolling through tumblr, when the message came.

"Excuse me, but who are you? "he replied, without much second thought. Usually when he received a message from an unknown source it didn't end up well. It was better to know beforehand than to be hurt later. His defence mechanics ran on autopilot nowadays.

"Someone concerned" came the answer. The message signal startled him. It was best to not do a silent activity while waiting for them. "I know that u also care about Charlies happiness"

"What do you want from me?" He wasn't really sure that the person contacting him was concerned, really. It seemed more like they wanted something from him. Actually, it seemed a lot more like blackmail than anything else.

"To get him away from that Jeanne girl" Well, he did not oppose to that.

"What do you suggest we do? "He had no idea how to separate the couple, except from forcing Charlie elsewhere physically. He stared at the three dots at the message screen before the reply came. It seemed like an hour.

"Don't really have to spend the holiday season here, u know. Could go directly to your place in Aspen after mid-terms". It was a matter of seconds for the reply to arrive, even though it almost seemed as if it had been rewritten several times. Wilhelm shook his head in awe of the shortened language and bad grammar.

They were right, though. There was nothing that held him and Charlie back here. In fact, flight tickets were much cheaper the further away from Christmas you got. Still Wilhelm wasn't sure. It might have been related to a spirit with a slight French accent. And the smell of her hair.

"How are we supposed to convince Charlie to go there? There's no way he'll be parted from her earlier than planned." He wasn't sure he wanted to be parted from Jeanne's sister either, but that was none of the "concerned person's" business.

"Don't know. You're his best friend. I'm just his sister." Wait. Was Caroline the one behind this? Wilhelm started to suspect another motivation to go to a cramped ski cabin for three weeks. Definitively blackmailing.

"Make something up. Just DO something." Reluctantly, he agreed that something had to be done and promised the "concerned friend" that he would try to convince Charlie. He did not yet know how, but was positive that it would include research of Jeanne's dating history.

To be continued


	2. What happens at recess (Elizabeth)

A/N: This chapter is chronically before the other I have published. Maybe later I will modify the order of them, but for now I am updating the chapters as they come.

###A.H.E.###

Elisabet unlocked her locker with a well known flick of her wrist. The combination _94 -01-19_ clicked, as she attempted to focus on what Françoise was trying to tell her.

"...As I told Benji, they must go to lots of parties all the time. And how many famous people they must know!" Honestly, she did not care much for the prattling teenager to her right. Elisabet would have broken up the friendship with Françoise long time ago, if it wasn't for her very good friend Benjamin. Benjamin and Françoise had been a couple for ages. Before that they both had a secret crush on each other. Well, actually not so secret, since practically everyone knew about it. One could simply not imagine Benjamin without Françoise or vice versa. Wherever one went the other was sure to follow, except when they were forced apart.

Benjamin was two years older, and therefore they had to be separated during class hours. Elisabet protected her friend's stupid girlfriend just because they were in the same class. She knew Benjamin worried that Françoise's big mouth would put her in trouble if he was not there. He was right, and Elisabet complied without complaint. She knew how important Françoise was to him, and didn't want him to become upset.

" Their parents own houses in both London and New York. Don't you wish you could accompany them Betty?" Elisabet managed a "mhm", absent-mindedly, while emptying her backpack. France, as she was usually called by her acquaintances, was always excited about one thing or another. It was her way of existing. Normally her friends just agreed to whatever she was saying at the moment. They all knew very well that a thing had not truly happened before France had told at least five persons of it.

"Apparently they are triplets. Models all of them. I so hope that they will arrive in time to come to the Halloween party." Elisabet's notes and textbook were located and put in their place in her bag. The zipper whined a little when she closed it. Done. Her bag was kind of old, but by a good quality brand. Even so, the signs of use and aging started to show up if one took a closer look. Elisabet knew that she had to replace it sooner or later, but didn't really have the heart to throw away the bag she had since middle school.

Not really interested, but curious nonetheless Elisabet asked. "Excuse me, exactly who are _they_?" She was finished and thought that France's chatter would ease her boredom during the time she had to wait. She realized too late that the only thing keeping them from going to class was that France wasn't ready. And that she was the one keeping her from preparing. Oops!

###A.H.E.###

At last France succeeded in putting her notebook and writing utensils in her Michael Kors bag. It was a huge feat, considering the size of that thing. They continued talking on their way to class. This meant, more or less, that France shared all she knew about the triplets that were expected to transfer soon to their school.

"They are seniors. I really, really, totes, really hope that Benji is nice to them, and not sassy and snarky as he usually is. They are sure to have classes together. I don't get why he isn't more interested in them". To be frank, Elisabet could empathize with Benji. The two of them were similar in disposition and temper, and if she knew France right, she had been talking about the triplets nonstop since she received the news. Benji would not let it slip to France, even if she piqued his interest, because then he would be showered with information. It was kind of sad, Elisabet thought, that Benji had developed a mask of indifference to "handle" his girlfriend.

The others finally got a word in between when they came to the marble stairs, since France's stamina was almost nonexistent. Halloween was around the corner, and though it was not widely celebrated; everyone looked forward to the big Halloween party that the festivities committee was throwing the Friday before the vacations. They talked to and fro about costume ideas. All rich, famous and beautiful triplets were forgotten in the musing of acquiring a suiting disguise in time. Several ideas were voiced and pros and cons discussed. Joyful anticipation bubbled under their skins as they sat down in class.

Elisabet's thoughts were less pleasantly occupied than the rest's. Her younger sister, Chloé, and _her_ friend Laura would absolutely want to come. They were only fourteen, and a high school party wasn't really suitable for them, but Laura was _really_ persuasive when she wanted to. It did not help that France had a soft spot for them, or that Jeanne, Elisabet's older sister, was incapable of saying no. "It will be a tough fight," she thought "but I will protect them, and their innocence." With that in mind, she settled down, took out her notebook, and tried to focus on photosynthesis.

A/N: Just clarifying the names. Françoise is Mrs. Bennet, Benjamin (Benji) Mr. Bennet, Jeanne Jane, Chloé Kitty and Laura Lydia.


	3. It's a hard work life (Charlotte Lucas)

On her way to work Charlotte Lucas thought about what she saw last night. Working as a bartender was hard, but she really liked seeing the interactions between people. Though it did not soothe the ache in her feet when she went to sleep, or pay her bills, it made her choice of career acceptable. People let go of their façades at the night club. Many thought that the intake of alcohol could excuse any behaviour and take back all that was said.

Charlotte had always been a pessimist, but when she started working at the Mermaid night club her stoic heart grew even colder and more cynic. What others appreciated in humankind did absolutely not show itself in her workspace. Charlotte was sure that hospitality, kindness and selflessness always came from the core of people. The selfish core that made pretences as to not be shunned by society. Every action could be tracked down to selfishness in the end. Saving people? Not wanting to be scrutinized. Inventing something? A possibility to be lazy. Society trains its citizens to feel guilty, and hence putting a layer of civil lacquer that we usually call "goodness". People could polish their behaviour all they wanted, but Charlotte saw how the pitch black souls let themselves free under the veil of daiquiris, darkness and dubstep.

Yesterday had been a busy night. The nightclub had been borrowed by a nearby high school for a Halloween party. Some of the high schoolers were regulars at the bar, including one of her best friends, Elisabet. The club had been buzzing. Some newcomers or something. Considering that the high school was private, and renowned for hosting mostly diplomats' kids it had surprised her how newcomers still impressed those kiddos. Frick, most of them moved every two years, according to statistics. Somehow, though, these latest newcomers were like a red dot to cats. All these high and mighty children (Charlotte did not acknowledge their adulthood. It would mean that she was old, and _that_ she was sure she wasn't.) had been stretching necks and trying to catch the smallest hint of smoke of the newcomers with their bare hands. Gossip had dominated the conversation that evening. Not that it did not all the other nights. Yesterday was special because everyone gossiped about the same thing.

###A.H.E.###

Charlotte washed her hands, before tying her hair in a neat low ponytail. Hopefully tonight would not be as busy. She needed to rest, but the weekend had only just begun. Monday night seemed so far away. Today, Saturday, was the bitter reminder that other people were off. October was ending, and so it was in the middle of the "awkward season". Too cold for barbeque, too hot for skiing. And hence Charlotte's dream of a calm night at work was spoiled before she even served her first drink for the night. When she exited the kitchen it took her all her professional willpower to not let her chin drop. The booths were cramped, the dance floor overflowing, and the lines reached almost to Mars.

Another bartender, she couldn't distinguish who, shouted, almost panicky, "Char, could you take register n°5, please?" Charlotte went to her assigned counter and swiped her card to open. "This line is now open" she spoke as forcefully as she could without screaming. Though her colleagues let out relieved sighs it took her many attempts to get the customers' attention. The buzzing of the crowd drowned any sound, except for the base, which moved through the walls like a physical force. She felt a headache coming within the first five minutes of her shift. Like everyone else that worked at the nightclub, she wore earplugs, but that didn't mean that she was insensible to the noise. The current song felt like a drill to her heart. And her poor head.

###A.H.E.###

The night progressed like it commenced. Drink after drink, after drink was served before she spotted someone familiar in the crowd. Someone she had been on the lookout for since her shift started. Most of the kiddies were probably sleeping after the party yesterday, but not Elisabet. Charlotte made a mental note to try to catch her tiny friend before she left, and continued to shake the Cosmo she prepared. The rattling sound was followed by pouring which was followed by a "Here you go. Have a nice evening". Strobes partially lit up the club as greetings were followed by stirring, was followed by payment, was followed by greetings.

At last Elisabet had run out of steam, and came bouncing towards Charlotte. "Waaaaaaater" she said, cocking her head to the left, giving her bartender friend a supposedly cute smile. "S'il te please?"

"That'll be ten francs" Charlotte responded with mock professionalism. She could not help smiling, Elisabet always put her in a good mood. In a way Elisabet was her little sister, if not by blood, then by soul. The thought reminded her why she wanted to see her friend in the first place. She cared too much to let the matter slip.

"Are you kidding me? Water has always been free here." Elisabet let the exhaustion show itself clearly in her face. She leaned in over the bar in a manner which implied that she was not unfamiliar with the charade. "Do I have to run to France to get what I want? Hurry up, I want to go back dancing"

"This'll be on the house, on one condition" Charlotte was all serious all of a sudden. "I want you to keep me company while I tidy after work" The club was still filled to the brim, even though it was two o'clock, and she didn't want her little friend to escape her interrogation. "Don't escape" She handed Elisabet the glass and signed "I'll keep my eyes on you, young lady" with her fingers as Elisabet returned the glass to the counter.

"Yes mum!" Elisabet rolled her eyes cheerfully, and started dancing as soon as she turned her back to the bar. If she was totally honest, it was equally terrifying and promising that Charlotte wanted to talk to her. Yesterday she did a lot that she was sure her more mature friend would disapprove of. Still, she was singled out to keep her company. That must mean that Charlotte actually cared about her. In a way Charlotte was starting to be a mother to her, but in a different way than her other "mothers". She unconsciously let all her concerns go, as she once more zoned out at the dance floor.

###A.H.E.###

 **A/N:** Here comes the last chapter before the winter hiatus. I actually started this chapter wanting to write the conversation between our favourite women. Charlotte ended up being a lot more interesting than I thought, and so we ended up here instead. I've already written ca 1K words on the "assembly", but it is nowhere close to become a chapter. Guess what I'm going to do when I hide from my relations at Christmas? I can't promise that it'll be published before middle January, though. Until then

 _/Nothisgrill_


	4. A change of plans (Mr Hurst)

Alibin Falk was not stupid. He knew his place in the food chain, and made sure he was there. Even so, he felt that he did not get what he deserved out of life.

He had good grades and a lean, fit body. Still he wasn't popular, nor liked, not even tolerated. He wasn't supposed to attend Lobourg. It was sheer dumb luck that his hockey coach took pity on him, and helped him get the sports scholarship.

Halloween was in a week, and still he wasn't sure how he had survived more than two years in high school in the same class as that b***h who got the scholarship. Was he bitter? You bet. Did that stop him from accepting his fate and be friend with the c**t anyway? Hell no.

She was the only one even talking to him now. To the rest of the class he was persona non grata. And even she didn't have the guts to openly support him. If she had to choose she chose anyone but him. He was marked, branded with burning letters on the forehead: jock.

In junior high he was someone. He was rich. (Well, his parents were) He was smart. No, he was the richest, the smartest, the strongest and the most popular kid in class. Too cool for school. But here, in this g*****n bratty high school every kid had a nicer house and better grades than him. And if they didn't, they did not, at least, play sports. How could he know that you were supposed to exercise in silence? Everyone was fit, so that's what he supposed they did, at least. But every time he started talking about a game or what happened at practice, people behaved like he was thin air.

Did he stand going to another party this weekend? Getting ignored, and talked behind his back? Not really, especially since he had to buy a costume. Last year he had a couple's costume, but this year he knew he would stand out. Whether he has a costume or not didn't matter. A single guy, standing alone at the bar. He would be laughed at. He knew that he would laugh at himself if he wasn't in his own shoes. He was pitiable. A mediocre nobody, white as Swedish half fat milk.

He did not get further in his negative spiral, because someone interrupted him.

"Albine Fallck?" a voice asked, a voice with a distinguished American accent.

"It's me " he answered while clicking his locker shut. 75-80-95. "I would prefer the pronunciation Albeen Fulk, though. " He did not have everything he needed, but it was more embarrassing to admit that he had spaced out for a minute than to pretend that he was just double checking before being on his way. "What do you want from me?" He turned around, not recognizing it, sure it must be one of the underclassmen.

"I heard that you needed someone to go with, to the party" The voice belonged to a platinum blond girl. She wore beige ugg's, jeggings, a white, oversized, knitted sweater and a beany with a large ball of fur on top. "Our last member bailed out last minute, and you are about his size." Seriously, was she for real? Albin wasn't sure. There was something about her that made her seem like a senior, but he though he knew everyone in his class.

He certainly welcomed the invite. But being the spare for a basic b***h? Had he really sunken that low? If she was dressed for winter now she should just wait for December. He still didn't need much time doing the right thing. He told her decidedly:

"So, what's my part?" Albin Falk knew his place in the food chain. That did not mean that he had to be content with it, though.


	5. A woman spurned - (Lydia)

Who the f**k did he think he was? _Wilhelm Darcy_. She almost spat it out in her bitter musings. The first (and only) man to resist her charms. Such a pity that he was such a nice one... until he opened his mouth. The guy had nothing on his mind but cartoons and puns. She would've trusted her instinct when she saw him striding with his backpack hanging low. Even then her gut had been screaming _NERD ALERT!_ But no. She just thought that he was hip and carefree. It was actually kinda hard nowadays to see the difference between real nerds and male fashionistas. When it was in to have big glasses, flannel, big beard and a trunk on the back, how would poor girls like her spot the difference at first glance?

It had started sorta innocent actually. The first time she saw him was when she (as usual) skipped math to go smoke at the local high school and check out guys. And girls. And whoever else was hot. It did not really matter to her gender, as long as people were pleasing to look at. Being a great kisser was always a plus. Usually it did not go further than that. She quickly became bored with her partner and broke up (if there ever was such a thing as a relationship between them) before they even came to second base. Really, the puppy eyes that most people had when they gave her their last, pleading goodbye just made her shudder inside with relief that it didn't go further than it went. Here she was again, just out of the school's property, with a half smoked cigarette in the hand with poisonous green nails. All because of him.

Now there was no innocence about her. Today's theme was punk chick. Except from her nails she also had green eyelashes, green roots in the hair, and green torn stockings. The rest of her, from the new, spiky haircut to her seven inch leather heels with spikes was in fifty different shades of smoky black. The micro skirt made her shiver a bit in the March wind, but it just made the similarities with that fateful day in November so much clearer. She had been there, smoking, waiting for her newest flirt to exit class. She would've had Cloë with her, if she hadn't bailed out, the bore. Even Marianne would've done, but no. They had to chicken out when they heard the plans. She wasn't going to steal any bras. Why did they take her seriously? Truth be told, she only said it because she wanted to impress Linnéa. Dating older women was so exhausting some times.

And then, in the middle of the hoard of adolescents, was the most gorgeous creature that she ever had laid her eyes on. That moment she knew she would be the one hunting this time. Everything about them just fits so well in their place. The half grey, half white shoelaces, the asymmetrical waistline, and the barely noticeable wrinkles on their shirt – together it was a miraculous sight. The way their stubble met with the earlobe made her realize that Movember wasn't so bad after all.

###A.H.E.###

The moment passes as quickly as it had come, but the impression was lasting. All the following weeks were spent in the company of Françoise, Jeanne or Elisabet figuring out the most she could about this divine being. She even tried getting information out of Marie. She followed them to clubs and bars in hope of seeing the one she now knew was the new transfer student to Elisabet's class, Wilhelm Darcy. That she went to less famous places, with weird music nonetheless, was irrelevant, if she could lay her eyes on _him_ again. Every time she caught a glimpse of him something happened with her abdomen. It was like relaxed and cramped at the same time. She always felt the need to relax, but how could she when she was feeling so warm?

The (almost) stalking would have continued forever if Darcy hadn't tried to hit on Elisabet at the Bingleys' holiday party. He failed, of course, and she felt so sorry for him. But in the midst of her pity was a determination to seize the moment. Wasn't she everything that Elisabet was, but better? Whether Darcy was attracted to Elisabet's long, dark, shiny hair, her deep, grass coloured eyes or her abundant chest didn't matter. Laura was positive that her features were better, sexier and more beautiful. She'd decided to go for it and seduce him, like she had seduced dozens before him.

It went well in the beginning. She took a little advantage on his soft spot for Elisabet, drawing back her hair in a ponytail as she bounced towards him in a manner that she thought was similar to hers. He seemed to catch on her little charade quite easily, and she drew him to the dance floor where they played "Dernier slow" by Joe Dassin. They swayed together in harmony, drawing closer and closer. He bowed his head and she closed her eyes, feeling the knowledge that she was going to be kissed. It warmed her from the inside out and she relaxed and let the music take over her body, flowing, being one with eternity. Being kissed by him must be so nice. And scratching that beard. Not that she liked beards, or anything. Just his.

Then he deigned to _reject_ her. No. He didn't even do that. He just went stiff and asked some weird questions like:"Why did the hipster drown?" and "What do you call an albino pet of Santa's?" She did not understand, nor did she want to. Instead she smiled seductively and tried to draw closer, to get the kiss she was almost promised. He started to push her away with a grave sigh. "Laura, you're way too young for this" Then he ran away, still looking like he was lurking around as usual.

###A.H.E.###

"I couldn't help but overhear you" She was awakened from her musings by someone putting themselves on the fence beside her. "Do you have a lighter?"

She apathetically lit the cigarette that was handed her. Now it was more than three months later and she still hadn't kissed anyone since Linnéa. Since Darcy, nobody had piqued her interest. _Blasted b*****d, son of a b***h Darcy._

Now this guy made her feel something close to attraction again. His voice was like the bottom of a hot chocolate – dark, sweet and covering at the same time. She looked seemingly disinterested over her shoulder and recognized the guy: Wickedson, Willowby, whatever his name was. Before Elisabet went away for spring break she'd seen them together occasionally, kissing or cuddling.

"You don't have to look at me that way, you know, I already know how sexy I am." He was absolutely teasing her, judging by his shrugging shoulders and snug smile. It was not fair how Elisabet could be fugly and boring and still get all the best guys. _Curse you, Darse._

"You keep muttering his name, you know. What has he done now?" Wisham looked so inviting, and so the whole story ran out of her, without her even noticing. "...and that's why I hate the c**t."

Her handsome companion was quiet for a while, and rose to leave. Before they parted he offered some words of comfort. "I think we have something in common"


	6. Going to Aspen (Jane)

**A/N** **:** You, the one reading this, are amazing. When I started thinking about this idea at the water park I wouldn't dream of more than 1k peeps would read it in less than a month. The change in chapter names is thanks to the guest reviewer, who considerately enough pointed out that what for me is just abstract and messy is even more abstract and messy for you, my readers. Now you can check _before_ starting reading a chapter which pov it is.

I know that I promised a chapter about the "assembly" before the holidays. I realized that it was written in Charlotte's pov and hence it's not going to be published as a part of this story. I might publish it as a separate story, but it's not going to be a part of AHE.

Last, but not least. This story is now completed. Maybe someday some other character will inspire me to write another chapter, only time will tell. But this is going to be marked as complete. I publish this in publishing order now, and in some weeks time I'll change the order of the chapters chronologically.

###A.H.E.###

Why did it always end up like this? How could she find herself abandoned time, after time, after time and still want to try again? Jeanne held her reading glasses, rolled the etui in her red striped blue shirt, looked absentmindedly into space and let out a deep, heavy sigh. Marie told her she was too gullible, Benji told her she was just looking for attention and France pitied her. Luckily she was invited to stay with her uncle and his girlfriend over new years. She couldn't stand going to another party with her classmates. What would they think of her now? Now it was not a beginner's mistake anymore. She fell for the wrong guys. It was as simple as that.

"I don't want to be that person, but aren't you supposed to be packing?" Jane saw her little sister bobbing her head at the doorframe, looking mischievous. "Last thing I heard your flight leaves at five tomorrow" The slightly raised eyebrow took the edge of the harsh words. Elisabet had been a treasure during the last few weeks since the holiday party at the Bingleys'. Jeanne couldn't count on her fingers anymore how many times Elisabet had aided her when she went into the labyrinth of thoughts that only led to misery. "I don't know Lisa" She resumed the folding, continuing with her frilly shirts, and her crop tops. "I'm not sure that this is such a good idea"

"Nonsense!" If one didn't know Elisabet she could be mistaken for pole dancing with the door. Jeanne knew for a fact that Elisabet had this restlessness in her body that couldn't be tamed. This was as still as one could get Elisabet. "Who would mère et père send otherwise? Me?" Both girls tried to hold their giggles, but did not quite succeed. "Lisa, you have enough energy within you to last for two. You don't need more." She winked and gave her baby sister a grin that did nothing to calm the giggling fit. "It was ONCE." If her sister didn't stop being such a prima donna she would be really sore in the belly tomorrow morning. "And how would I know that it the punch was off limits? Aunt Yasmine should have looked out for me better."

Speaking of her host for the holiday mad Jeanne sombre all of a sudden. Elisabet had almost made her forget her worries. Almost. "You can't trick me Lisa" The heavy mood fell like jell-o around their bodies. "What if he's there? I mean we obviously won't go to the same parties or anything, but what if I meet him in the piste?" A sudden chill spread through her bones, like fog. What _if_ they met, but he didn't recognize her? Or worse, he did?

"Jeanne Felicia, sister dearest" Elisabet looked serious for a moment, which surprised her. She was always bouncing around in one way or another. This made Jeanne really pay attention, because she knew the moment was of great importance. "You are a strong, independent, beautiful, smart woman, who only let men in her life if they bring the silver lining." Jane felt something heavy on her shoulder, and was surprised that the hand that rested there was steady and reassuring at the same time. When did her little sister grow so old?

"...but" something felt fishy, as if Elisabet herself had had an experience of one kind. It could not be; Elisabet would've told her right away. "Shhhhhh" The finger that closed her mouth was an incarnation of the idiom "steel hand in silk gloves". "You will go to Aspen, you will ski all day, party all night and have late night talks with aunt Yasmine." Jeanne felt herself shrink under the steady gaze of her sibling. "That's that. Now be a good girl and continue packing." Jeanne saw Elisabet bounce back to her usual self from her half sitting position. It was so comical she couldn't suppress her smile. "Ciao et bon courage!" As her little sister's ponytail bobbed out of her sight she let out the sigh she had hold for almost the whole conversation.

Elisabet was right. She would have a great time at new years. It was just so hard to not think about him anymore. Out of all the heartbreaks Jeanne have had this must've been the hardest. The others she left because she realized they were no good for her. Each time she promised herself to be more cautious with whom she gave her heart to. This time he left her. He left her because she was too guarded in her feelings. And now, now when he was gone, she realized that she had opened her heart to him. Too late. It was too late for regrets. She had to have fun at New Year's. She would have fun at New Year's. That he probably was in the same village, kissing some young heiress at midnight should not bother her at all.

The packing was finished around midnight. Jeanne wasn't really sure was she had packed. Her mind had been elsewhere during the whole process. She went to bed exhausted and waited for sleep to avoid her and the thoughts to come. Tomorrow, no, today, she would cross the Atlantic Ocean and she would enjoy her holidays and not think about handsome younger men. She would not.


	7. (in)Animate objects (Mr Bingley)

"What do you think about this, Helmert?" Charlie paced the room, carefully avoiding thinking about what made him pacing in the first place. Helmert didn't answer. This mostly was because Helmert was a fountain pen.

Charlie circled his room about fifteen more times. The news distressed him, more than he was willing to admit. "Olga, what should I do?" Being a cell phone charger, Olga could not do much, but she flashed a silent response. "You're right. I should grovel."

He sighed, and let his shoulders down. Crouched, he sat down on his bed, only to jump right up again. "We can't mope around waiting for someone else to make our decisions, Kurt." The bed just bounced a bit, and went back to its regular posture at the side of the room.

"That's what we did the last time, and look where that led us!" Jenny, the poster, just looked at him with one eyebrow raised. That would be, if posters could raise their eyebrows. Now it was just hanging on the wall as usual. "Don't look at me in that manner. I'm sorry, okay?"

Charlie paced, and paced. Then he paced a little bit more. "Am I hurting you? I'm sorry Paul." Contrary to his statement he continued pacing, as if the pain of the rug didn't move him at all. It probably did not, since the rug bore signs of heavy usage. He had been distracted, caught in his own thoughts for almost two days now.

Suddenly Charlie stopped, and pumped his fist. "I can do this, Miriam. You guys," he said, surveying all his furniture. "I'm going back to Switzerland. Jeanne won't get rid of me that easily. I'm hers, if she still wants me."

Someone knocked at the door. Charlie didn't hear a thing. Two days without eating and sleeping finally overwhelmed him.


End file.
